


glow

by leukoplakiaa



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: M/M, Porn with minimal Plot, don't ask how they make one okay i'm not here for that., its not detailed smut so if you're here for that i'm sorry.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leukoplakiaa/pseuds/leukoplakiaa
Summary: link and sidon make a sex tape





	glow

**Author's Note:**

> link and sidon make a shark tape i mean sex tape.docx

“Come again, sweetheart?”

Link huffs, staring into Sidon’s eyes (they’re pretty eyes) for the thousandth (well, maybe not that long, but it certainly feels like) time this evening. Plus, the man isn’t stuck watching his hands at this very moment. Even if Link could speak, some things should never be said in any language. Hands did not stutter, hands did not croak, and save for a few scares, his hands could not leave him at any given moment.

He cups Sidon’s face to make sure the prince is truly with it, and really he’s just too beautiful. A previously unknown heat takes the back of his neck as Sidon grins, brushing his claw against Link’s hip. Was it infuriating, at times, that Sidon kneels when they’re alone? Sure. Maybe. Link doesn’t know, but its considerate and he loves just about everything about the prince so it doesn’t _matter_.

“Yes, dear?” he prods. “What is it?” Maybe Sidon’s HSL is rusty (though he doubted it; the prince understood him that day on the bridge)—maybe he isn’t using the right symbols, or maybe his tongue should stop being a coward.

Link mirrors his grin, and takes a step back so Sidon can see him properly. He waves the Sheikah Slate in a _Hey, pay attention to it_, and tucks in under his armpit. His fingers flow into what it wants---”_You, me, slate, camera rune, sex._” It’s a bit more simplistic than he intended, but Sidon is a very smart, very handsome shark with knives for teeth. He has zero doubts the prince will understand, even if it takes a moment to get through that thick crest of his. “_Only if you want to._”

They stand in silence, and the cogs visibly turn in Sidon’s marvelous (did he mention that they’re pretty eyes?) eyes. If he had brows, they’d be furrowed, and its a few more moments of silence before Sidon thickly says, “I mean. I suppose so, sweetheart.”

Cocking his head, he gestures for the Zora to lean back so Link can stand in front of him, this time facing away, so Sidon can see the slate and maybe he can put his head on his shoulder or something ridiculous like that (it was really unfair how tall Sidon is, and he remembers, vaguely, that sometimes Zora don’t stop growing). He doesn’t plan to talk much, anyway, because some times things are easier to do than explain.

Pulling up the slate, he maneuvers his way around it with ease. It has been tinkered with since Ganon’s defeat, and he opens up the camera rune. Sidon hums as a _I’m paying attention_ while Link tilts his head back against the very muscular prince who is deeply infatuated with him, and Link feels the same. He’s an excuse to fish in exotic places and bring it back to the Domain and to pick up shiny things because while Sidon is not as enamored with them, children always are.

He pans the slate around the room, finger pressed into the corner of the screen. Once he’s done, he holds the Slate up to be more at Sidon’s eye level, because he’s considerate like that. The screen plays back what he just recorded, and Sidon gasps. “Aren’t you marvelous, friend?” he says; the slate looks tiny in Sidon’s hands, but he hands it over, settling on the ground again facing him.

Sidon plays around for a few minutes (big, dumb intelligent fish), and Link, while thoroughly enraptured because it’s Sidon, nine feet of joy, clears his throat. The prince’s eyes snap to him immediately, tiny slate held in front of his chest.

Link smiles, and carefully signs: “_I...miss you when I have to leave,_” and that is definitely a new blush on his cheeks, “_in a lot of ways, and the mountains are lonely, the castle is lonely. It would be nice to have something to...keep me company_,” he finishes. Link’s sign language for _I’d like to beat off to you in the middle of the woods_ is a little rusty, but the sentiment is there.

The prince’s tail slowly swishes. “I see...” he says, but he can hear the willing excitement in Sidon’s voice. Link, sometimes, worries that Sidon only agrees to his insane (yet safe) plans to indulge him, and that he doesn’t want to be an actual participant, but just below that worry sits the truth that Sidon agrees for _himself_.

Link is just a bonus.

Grin prominent, he gestures for Sidon to hand the slate back, and as the Zora reaches out, he wraps his fingers around his wrist and pulls; Sidon is _big_ in most capacities, but Link has the strength of a Hero. Its intentional, part of his grand plan, as Sidon tips forward and traps him against the ground. The slate clatters, but it has been through much worse. “_Not now_,” he signs, but presses his lips to Sidon’s jaw all the same as thanks.

The prince sighs, which ruffles Link’s hair. “Of course, sweetheart.”

***_*_*_*_***

_Now_ turns into the month he has in the Domain—Zelda is with the Gerudo (again, Link might add; he may be a little stupid but he sees the looks between her and Riju), and while he itches to ensure that Zelda is safe, he knows the capabilities of the Gerudo and their chieftain. Zelda is as safe there as she would be with him (mainly, because when Link suggested jumping off of cliffs to save time, she scolded him with all the indignation being a 100+ year old Hylian gives you).

He has a month to do as he pleases in the Domain—entertain the children, see the King (who took the ‘I’m dating your other child now’ thing remarkably well), steal Sidon away from his more minor duties (actions, again, supported by the King, who only laughed boldly at their antics).

And, sure, Sidon doesn’t mind taking things out of the bedroom, they’d broken a table in the library before, but the slate put a new dynamic in their fun.

Sidon was _shy_ in front of the camera. He’d apologize, of course, because if the camera was in sight he was distracted, he was looking there and not the half naked Hylian on his lap. Link...didn’t get it, not really, because for the most part he was shameless creature who tended to act first, think a few days later. Still, Sidon. Uncomfortable. Link wouldn’t force it.

“Its not that I can’t or don’t want to, little love,” he said halfway through the month, because Sidon is a strong, young Zora who’s shown Link on many occasions that he’s capable (many, many times, and maybe having marathon sex to celebrate Ganon’s defeat was not their wisest idea), “I would just—I would like to give my best, if this is your escapism.”

Link does enjoy sleeping tucked into Sidon’s side, assuming his avoids jabbing gills and he doesn’t need to sleep in his pool, but talks before bed are easiest leaning against him or settled on his stomach. Sidon’s broad hands that envelop his hips and could so easily but won’t snap his neck settle somewhere, always, maybe a thigh, maybe his hair, but they’re involved. Tonight, he gets the pleasure of looking down at (not on) Sidon, and starts signing, lit by light from a candle or twelve. “_You always give your best_.”

“I fell asleep once.”

“_You were tired!_”

“I _cried_!”

“_You were tired!”_ Link repeats. “_Besides, you’re a sap_.”

Sap translates through Sidon’s head, mumbling _tree_ beneath his breath. “I can’t imagine being alone in the mountains and watching me cry is what you’re looking for, sweetheart.”

Link shrugs. “_I’m looking for you_,” he says. He watches everything flick across Sidon’s face, an easily read creature, and leans over to kiss his crest. There’s remnants of Link’s mouth on Sidon’s shoulder from attempted bites, but he only ever ends up nicking his lips bloody in the process.

Blood worries Sidon, but it only makes the grip on him tighter.

“Oh, Link,” the prince breathes. “We’ll keep trying, I promise.”

Its easy to smile around Sidon; the prince has a thousand worries but wears them as if they only weigh a feather each. “_I know_,” he says; “_We always figure these things out_.”

***_*_*_*_***

The Domain, while fluent in HSL, tends to not be as fluent as Sidon or his father. Which is fine. Not everyone needs to understand his full thoughts at all times.

He finds Sidon within the Domain by his sister’s statue, and tugs on his arm to get his attention. “Link!” he says without looking, because who else freely touches him? The prince turns around, and his smile falters. “You’re...covered in mud.” Link nods, and produces a croak from his throat. “I see,” his prince says, and he hesitates with his hand as to where to touch him, before his hand awkwardly floats back to his idea. “Lets get you cleaned up,” he says.

“_I have an idea for our sex video_,” he signs, eyes staring the Zora head on.

Sidon looks around in a panic, and judging by the sigh a Zora guard gives (its too perfectly timed), he was understood. “_Link_,” Sidon almost hisses, because they’re in public and one of them needs manners.

“_You heard me!_” he says, or signs. “_See, what we do is we put the Slate out of sight, or I put it out of sight, so we can-_”

“Link!” Another sigh that does not belong to either of them. “We can talk _inside_,” he says, and now seemingly uncaring of the mud, grips the Hylian by the shoulders, carefully pushing him along.

“_If you can’t see the slate then you don’t have to worry about doing your best!_”

The guard doesn’t salute Sidon as they pass, doesn’t even acknowledge him, and really, its for the best. It can be forgiven. He keeps trying to sign, but a glance upwards confirms that Sidon’s eyes are most definitely _not looking at him_. Link tries to find purchase on the floor to stop their advance, but it doesn’t really work, so he wiggles out of Sidon’s hold and tugs him down by the sash. He doesn’t have to sign, and it’s comforting how well Sidon can read him. “It is a good idea, dear, but your tact is subpar,” he relents, bowing his head to tap his crest on the top of Link’s hair.

Link grins and shrugs. Content that he’s been recognized for his greatness, he grips Sidon’s hand and leads them on back to his chambers. Sidon scrubs the mud off of his hands and flinches when Link’s tunic hits the carpet (Hylian comforts for a Hylian lover). Link leaves the slate on the table, and, much to the prince’s comfort, scrubs himself clean of most of the mud. He might be twenty percent mud at this point.

He leaves the slate on the coffee table as Sidon mumbles against his shoulder, teeth carefully grazing his skin, that not _tonight_. That maybe its best if the slate is just _ready_ one day, because even if Link disappears to set it up he’ll know its near. A claw carefully digs into the meat of his thigh, the rounder part, and its a good idea. He likes it.

Maybe he’s biased. He likes Sidon.

***_*_*_*_***

Sidon, like the prince he is, gets stuck in meetings all day. Link, because he’s on _vacation_, lazes about his quarters for half the day, and rummages around their bedroom for somewhere to tuck the slate. They’ve a week, and Link is getting antsy (but, like, the good antsy).

The Zora do not keep much in their pool rooms; Sidon’s seems cluttered by their standards as there’s a bed for him, along with the pile of Link’s belongings. There’s a dresser for Sidon’s various pieces of ornate finery, but no good place to tuck the slate and pick up on the absolute comforting debauchery.

Hiding it in his pile would be...too obvious, and it was likely to fall down at any moment.

Link paces the length of the rooms. A mini-apartment, basically, devoid of a kitchen. Privacy.

Nothing says they have to do it in the bedroom, anyway. Link’s find with that, and mills about the living room. Due to Sidon’s sheer size, large for even a Zora, they tend to tumble off of the couch when they try to do things there. There’s _blankets_ and _carpet_ for a reason, and if they’re both thoughtful, a throw pillow.

Grinning, he wedges the slate between the backing, making sure only the lens stuck out. He did a test video, and there’s a clear view of the living room. He lets it rest for now, mainly knowing when Sidon comes home on days like these, and heads out.

He’s good at hiding his emotions, or at least not being the open book Sidon is. His day tasks are clear (the guard from the other day won’t look at him) and precise, easy, as he dips out of the Domain and checks on the surrounding area. He’ll always be here, like this, in some form.

Meeting Sidon in the Domain, he’s picked up for a hug, like always, a big embrace that leaves his heart hammering in his chest. Sidon tells him about his day while holding him like he weighs nothing, and Link nods, hands on the prince’s shoulders. It’s. Good. He kisses the prince for good measure, lips to his cheek and then his lips, and Sidon lets out a monstrous laugh that leaves butterflies in Link’s stomach.

How many times can he fall for the same man?

“_Can we eat in tonight_?” he signs, running his fingers afterwards along Sidon’s tail.

The Zora hums, golden eyes searching his face. “I am sure Father will not mind! Would you like access to the kitchens?” Link nods, and Sidon sets him down. “So it will be done!” he declares.

***_*_*_*_***

Making out with Sidon never gets old. Making out with Sidon is always fun, because its always a different level of dangerous and fun and enjoyable all at once.

But. He’s a Hylian on a mission.

He breaks the kiss, and touches Sidon’s face to still him, before signing, “_Go put your jewelry away. We tore a sash, remember? Muzu almost threw me out of the Domain_?” he reminds. “_I’ll be here_.”

Sidon grumbles something about sensible Hylians but relents with a kiss to his forehead. His stubby little legs take him to his room, and once he hears the drawer open, he lounges to the couch and sets up the slate; he readjusts the pillows some, and tries to forget where it is himself as to not look at it.

To make it look like he’s innocent (which he totally is, thank you), he tugs his hair out of its tail, setting it on the couch along with his boots (making sure the soles don’t touch the upholstery).

And, really, the worst thing about his silence is only being able to pout lovingly, longingly, across the distance dividing them. Sidon’s golden eyes have dilated some, both young and eager, as their gazes meet. Something low, warm, and predatory rumbles out of his gigantic boyfriend, and his cock hardens in his pants.

Clothes, really, are cultural, because he’s somehow more attractive, bare, without all of his ornaments like a Yule tree.

Sometimes, he gets close to vocalizing a _Si_, but it never gets further than lodged in his throat and his dreams where he can speak.

And, again, if he dies making out with Sidon, its not a bad way to go. The Zora prince lifts him, and Link wraps his legs around him, always appreciating when Sidon doesn’t bend to him. Kissing gets messy, sometimes, because Sidon worries about hurting him as their lips mash together, but its an accepted risk, and maybe Mipha’s Grace won’t save him from bleeding out in her brother’s embrace.

But, hey. You win some, you lose some.

Its a considerate kind of night as Sidon carefully kneels, fishing (ah good one) a throw pillow off of the couch, Link’s head halfway on it and on the floor; they can adjust. They always do. When he needs oxygen, Link breaks the kiss, but carries along, kissing the corner of his mouth, along his jaw to finish with a haphazard lap around his golden eyes (he’s convinced Sidon secretly applies eye liner when he’s not looking, though he has no concrete evidence).

“Oh, my dearest friend,” Sidon sighs. The buttons on his pants annoy the prince, because they’re _small_ and Sidon’s fingers, try as he might, are not up to the same delicate tasks as Hylian fingers. But they do have their own perks. He helps the prince some, briefly dropping his legs so Sidon can pull his pants off and toss them towards the bedroom.

Link goes in for another series of kisses along the prince’s very strong neck. Scales scratch at his lips, but there’s no blood yet, and Hylia above he wishes he had slightly sharper teeth, because Sidon deserves to be bit every once and a while too. Sidon grips him tightly, a dance they’ve done a thousand times before, and asks, “How much tonight, darling?”

They’d devised a system so Link could answer questions without having to think too hard, to break the mood or whatever, so when he presses three fingers against Sidon three times (_eve-ry-thing_), Sidon inhales sharply, the sound rattling around his gills in what he assumes to be hitched breathing.

Sidon rarely, rarely, uses his fingers. It’s not fair how talented Sidon is with his tongue, but they’ve gotten oysters enough times for him to know why Zora have such wonderful tongues, good for prying meat out of shells and hiked gasps out of Hylian lovers.

_Lover_.

Link tries to find purchase on his head fin while Sidon eats him out (dining in, eating out) like he’s dying. Maybe they are. They could totally not wake in the morning, and it scares him, sort, but if his last word/sound is for Sidon, its not too horrible. Those golden eyes catch his, low, over his cock obscuring such a good view. He tries, he always does, to coach his vocal cords to make something resembling a word as Sidon grips his thighs like a vice, but it never happens, only a choked noise as Sidon carries on, and really, why wouldn’t Link let him practice this skill?

And, really, he’s spoiled as his thighs quiver. He squeezes around Sidon’s head, not as a _Stop_ but as in a _I want you already, idiot_.

Claws dig into his thighs enough to sting, and he does mewl, from it and the way Sidon’s tongue curls and twists deep inside of him as he withdraws his tongue, nibbling kisses to his hip (usually not enough to bleed, but he’ll have some red splattered on him soon enough). “Sweetheart,” he purrs, nuzzling his crest against his chest as if doesn’t dwarf him and his aching cock bounces against him.

And, yeah, the double dicks where confusing, at first, a bit weird, a bit overwhelming, but he’s learned to manage over time; he slides his fingers to coach them along, because they’re always ready too. Sidon licks his lips, and Link always knows what he looks like by now (having sex in front a mirror had been one of their better ideas): red, disheveled, panting, but always ready, because he loves Sidon and Sidon loves him.

It’s. Sidon may berate himself for crying, but sometimes, Link is beautifully overwhelmed by this nine foot shark man.

Easiest to let Link initially take the lead, they carefully switch spots. He easily straddles his prince’s lap, shuddering as a single hand wraps around his back, because Sidon always does, and always. “You’re gorgeous, Link,” and he always grins as he grips one of Sidon’s cocks. “Truly, you are. My gorgeous Hylian.” he says, and his claws carefully dig into his side. Never enough to bleed, because Sidon won’t indulge him there.

And, yeah, double cocks, decently sized ones at that, but he only ever takes one, because they’re...sort of connected, he guesses, always close behind its twin. Sidon keeps his balance for him while praise freely falls from his lips and he brushes hair out of Link’s face.

Link always feels full, like this, but so loved as his hips rock back and forth, getting use to the feeling. This only happens a time or two a month, but he loves it each time, licking his lips. It never takes him long to set a rhythm, and, yeah, they’re both soft, because he can’t tease Sidon for being a sap too much without calling himself out.

Never leaving him, Sidon carefully rolls them, hand still on his lower back holding him up and Link tucks his head into his shoulder, teeth aching to sink into his resistant scales. Sidon fucking purrs again. His small (compared to Sidon, anyway) hand winds between their bodies, fingers wrapping around the cocks trapped between their bodies.

Sidon hunching over like this only means he gets a massage in the morning, anyway. And Link’s pretty quiet in all he does, but Sidon provides all the noise they need, praise evident, and turning a hair possessive. “_My_ little Hylian, so good for me; only for me.” He nods along, tongue restless in his mouth and darting out past his lips. He only gets to _this_ and to make out with Sidon when the prince is sitting and he rides him. There’s too much Sidon and not enough Link for a lot of things.

His fingers falter with another admittance of being _Sidon’s_ Hylian, and he wishes he has the words to agree. Sidon’s unoccupied hand joins his unoccupied one in a handhold with a squeeze as his thrusts slow and get more deliberate.

Figuring, hey, now’s his chance, he latches onto Sidon’s shoulder, and he must strike some sort of nerve for once, because the prince’s hips still completely, hilted so deep that Link has dreams about it, warmth filling him and then his stomachs a mess too as he strokes both of them to completion.

There are, in fact, small indents as he loosens his jaw, and considers the night a success; they take a quick shower (“_You are _not_ licking me clean_”), and Sidon’s soft after sex, isn’t he always?, waiting to tuck _his_ Hylian tightly against. Link promises to be in in a few minutes to search for his hair tie (and shut off the Slate).

***_*_*_*_***

Sidon wants a copy.

**Author's Note:**

> listen to the album "pool" by porches if you want to listen to what i was, i guess.
> 
> yeah idk every time i write smut its very feely not very do-ey. that thing about sidon crying? i've another work where one of my main dudes just sort of, almost cries during sex with his recently returned partner, because what's healthily exploring your emotions?
> 
> you can find me on twitter @hectorpriamids! i hope this was slightly enjoyable. might do more with these dorks.


End file.
